


Shut Up and Drive

by axolotlsushi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Dirk came out to have a good time and is honestly feeling so attacked right now, Dirk is highly uncomfortable, Earth C (Homestuck), F/M, Hand Jobs, Human/Troll Relationship, Kismesissitude, Motorcycles, Probably Voiding Motorcycle Warranties, Smut, To clarify... Dirk IS gay... but sometimes you gotta bend the rule for a kismesissitude, Troll Anatomy, Troll Romance (Homestuck), Unsafe Motorcycle Practices, Vriska came out to attack people and is honestly having such a good time right now, Vriska is THICC, bar shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 07:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axolotlsushi/pseuds/axolotlsushi
Summary: Dirk just wanted a peaceful night of drinking alone.Vriska has other plans.





	Shut Up and Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing like summer in the city.

>>Be Dirk Strider. 

Ha, you wish. It is my regret to inform you that you are unable to “be” Dirk Strider. Why? Because Dirk Strider is simply too cool. It is physically impossible for anyone else to be quite as cool as him. 

At least, that's what he thought. 

Dirk sat alone at the bar, sipping at… Whatever the hell it was the bartender gave him. He didn't know or care what it was, having asked for the cheapest thing on the menu. He wasn't there to delicately sip a fruity drink like some sort of connoisseur, he was there to get mildy wasted and have a tolerably okay time. The sound of traffic outside roared as it often would on a Friday evening, the small group of people in the bar couldn't make enough noise to cover it up. The nearby conversations were hardly interesting enough to listen in on either, people either discussing the day’s news or some sort of gossip... A young, dark shelled carapacian girl sitting nearby cried into her drink, ranting about a particularly nasty break up, while a startled burgundy-blood troll tried desperately to comfort her. Just what the atmosphere needed, right?

Dirk was about to say something quite possibly a little heartless to them, but before he could so much as decide what to say, a particularly loud engine revved outside in the parking lot, followed by a crashing sound that was most likely some sort of dumpster getting knocked over. Soon enough, a windblown Vriska shoved open the double-doors, strutting in with careless abandon. Hair a perfect mess, all eyes on her. Her thick, tall frame bore a large black leather jacket over a cerulean blouse, paired with black jeans and her favourite red boots. She immediately spotted Dirk, walking over and not even greeting him before attempting to finish his drink in one shot. 

She spat it out onto the counter at the first taste, much to the displeasure of the surrounding crowd. 

“Really, Dirk? I expected better of you!” She cackled as he glared at her silently, jumping over the counter and grabbing two shot glasses, pouring the snootiest whiskey she could find into them, before jumping back onto the counter. The bartender looked like he could have many a word with her, but didn't dare try to stop her. 

Vriska handed one glass to Dirk, successfully downing her portion of the finer liquid in one go before dropping her glass to the floor. “Drink up, pretty boy! This is the good stuff!” Her laughter continued as she jumped down to stand by him, taking the bottle with her. For a few moments, all he could do was stare at the substance. For someone sitting alone at a bar, he really didn't know how to drink. 

“Yeah, I'm not touching that with a mile long stick,” he stated simply, still glaring up right into her eyes. 

“Is that how it's going to be?” She taunted, leaning in very close to his face, seeing his calm facade waver for a second behind his shades. “Fine, if you want to play dirty, we can play dirty!” She shoved his shot glass off the bar, letting it also shatter loudly on the other side, before taking a large swig of whiskey from the bottle and kissing him, other hand gripping his hair tight to keep him from moving away. 

He feverishly tried to push her away, the taste of alcohol sitting sour in his mouth, as he tried to convince himself that he really didn't want this. But, she undeniably had the upper hand, standing tall above his seated position, dipping her long cerulean tongue into his oral cavity. Through the shoving and discontented grunting they locked eyes, her orbs wide and grinning alongside the rest of her face, plainly stating that she wouldn't stop until he swallowed. He finally had to relent, gulping it down with visible disgust, before she moved back to let him breathe. 

Dirk gasped desperately, clutching his throat as it burned, and Vriska just resumed her cackling, grabbing Dirk by the back of his shirt and pulling him up to stand. “Come on, let's roll out of this lame joint!”

“You…! You'd better pay for all of that-!” The bartender started, looking rather disturbed along with everyone else in the bar. 

“Oh. Right.” Vriska reached into her pocket, and in place of a wallet, pulled out… A large ziplock bag of loose change, mostly consisting of pennies. 

“No, you fucking definitely aren't,” Dirk growled, now standing at full height, a few inches taller than the other. He grabbed his wallet with much more force than necessary, ripping out a fifty and slamming it on the counter before grabbing Vriska by the hair, dragging her out of the establishment. 

“Ow- what the hell, Strider?!” She yelled, clearly only feigning discontentment as her grin stayed unmoved on her face. 

Dirk looked around and quickly found her motorbike… easily spotted next to the freshly battered trash can. “Get on, punk, we're going for a joyride,” he rumbled, shoving her towards the vehicle. 

“Ooooooooh, spicy! Ha, I like it when you get rough, Dirky!” Vriska hopped on the bike unphased, grinning wider as he climbed on behind her. “Where to, bitchboy?” She cooed, revving up the engine.

“Somewhere you won't cause an eight car collision,” he shouted over the motor, holding on to her for dear life as it slowly dawned on him exactly how massive this mistake was. And he wasn't lacking in places to hold. 

“I'll take you where you wanna go, if you know what I mean!” She cackled as they pulled out of the parking lot, running over the trash can one more time for good luck. She tore out onto the road, blatantly disregarding the Friday night traffic, and every road sign possible. 

They weaved through the crowded streets with careless abandon, until the buildings started to wither away, Vriska taking them through a winding wooded back street that ended on a long country lane, landscape coated in sparse trees and rolling hills. 

“Oh, yeah,” Dirk sneered, “fuck deep in the middle of hick-town. This is exactly what I had in mind.”

“Well excuuuuuuuuse me, princess, I'm sorry if this isn't up to your standards! And, c’mon, I'm pretty sure this satisfies your quota of ‘no collisions’!” She started revving her engine, speeding towards an approaching hill. “Hold on tight!” At the crest of the hill she jerked the bike back and jumped, putting Dirk through about the most terrifying airborne second of his life. 

 

 

 

They landed with a large thud, but Vriska seemed unphased, continuing along with breakneck speed per usual. Dirk, on the other hand, had wrapped his arms around her as if his life depended on it- which, mind you, it probably did. 

“Aw, did I scare you? Don't worry– I'm incredibly lucky, we'll be just fine!”

“I'm more worried you're going to give me a heart attack than anything else,” Dirk growled in her ear, still holding on tight. 

“You wanted a joyride, and you're damn well getting one!” 

An idea occurred to Dirk, and he couldn't help but grin, mirroring Vriska’s expression. “Oh, I'll show you a joyride…”

“Is that a threat, Dirky? Oh noooooooo, I'm so scared. What could you possibly-” Vriska’s breath hitched and she stopped mid-sentence, swerving a bit as Dirk’s arms wrapped further around her. “Hey-!” she started, but gasped as one hand dipped into her jeans, unbuttoning them with ease and beginning to fondle her bulge. The other winded up into her blouse, firmly stroking her grub scars, and Dirk just had to admire the gorgeous flush on her face as she struggled for words. 

“Eyes on the road, Vriska, you're not that lucky.”

She tried desperately to focus as Dirk continued, but the increasingly frequent swerves seemed a little too risky to him, so he retrieved his hand from her shirt to help her steer. 

He began to whisper to her, cruel sweet nothings as he gripped her member. After awhile of this she started to slow down, but he wasn't having any of it, gripping her tighter and growling in her ear. “No, no. Back up to 80.”

“What happened to mister ‘you're going too fast’?”

“Do you want me to finger you, too?” A shiver rippled down Vriska’s back, but she complied, pressing down on the gas again. 

“Looks like you're getting a little cocky,” she managed to stutter out, but another squeeze from Dirk made her fall dead silent. 

He continued these motions for quite some time, always stopping for a few minutes whenever she approached her edge, having to do most of the steering by now. The blue blush on her cheeks was gorgeous, just like the rest of her, regardless of whether or not he would admit it. 

Dirk had no intention to stop until he noticed how dark it was getting, the sun almost set behind them, the wind becoming cold. Road signs finally started to pass by again, dimly lit and pointing the way to a nearby city. 

“Hey, doll?” He started, finally relenting and removing his hand from Vriska’s jeans. “Let's take the next exit. Maybe find someplace to crash for the night. Maybe do a little more.”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” Vriska teased, daring to get a bit feisty again, omnipresent grin shining bright again. “But, fine, I won't pretend I don't need it just as much as you do, asshole. And, for the record, you're paying the bill.”

Dirk just chuckled, kissing her on the cheek before leaning back comfortably, leather sheathed hands gripping her shoulders. “Shut up and drive, sweetheart.”


End file.
